


If Done Freely

by writtenhistory



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Ending, Future Fic, M/M, Slash, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-21
Updated: 2011-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-24 20:13:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenhistory/pseuds/writtenhistory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To defeat Voldemort, Professor Snape must become enslaved to Harry Potter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my take on the popular fandom cliche slave spell to end the world.
> 
> Probably considered as going AU after Order of Phoenix

**Prologue:**   


  
The final battle raged for eight days. By the end the land laid in ruins, burned and scorched. Spells had uprooted trees, and sent deep cracks up the walls of the castle. There were bodies amongst the wreckage, wizards and witches from both sides, broken and twisted their empty eyes staring into the distance. Those that survived to the end huddled together, shock, pain and confusion written clearly in their expressions. Some of the DeathEaters, when they felt their Dark Lord fall, ripped from them, had dropped their wands and fled to the woods, but most stood in shocked silence, unable to comprehend their Leader’s demise, and their side’s defeat.  


  
Harry walked out of the smoke. His eyes wide, with pain and distress; his clothing was torn and dishevelled, and there was a heavy river of blood down the side of his face. People called out to him but he seemed not to hear them as he walked across the battlefield towards the Castle. Hermione moved to rush to Harry’s side, but the Headmaster reached out to stop her. He met her confused annoyed look with his own serene understanding one as Harry disappeared into the school.  


  
It was the last anyone in the Wizarding World saw of Harry Potter for ten years.  


  
 ****

\---**---

  


  
“Magnus Albus Ronald Potter!”  


  
The young boy slid to a stop on the platform, letting out a frustrated huff of air.  


  
“Wow. You got your whole full name.” A young boy grinned at Magnus, leaning against a trolley laden with suitcases and trunks.  


  
“Always stop when you get the full name.” Magnus nods. “Or Father’s glare.”  


  
“It’s Mum for me,” the other boy giggled. “I think she can stupefy with just her eyes.”  


  
Before Magnus could reply a younger girl came running up, dancing around the older boy grinning gleefully. “Papa’s going to tell you off.”  


  
“Little sisters are _so_ annoying.”  


  
“I know,” conspired the other boy. “And older sisters are even worse.”  


  
“Magnus, you were told to wait with your Father while I brought your sister through the barrier.”  


  
“I know Papa, I’m sorry. But it was so exciting. The steam train was already there, and I’m going to get to see Hogwarts and learn to be a real wizard like you and Father.”  


  
The older man wrapped an arm around his son and pulled him into an embrace. “Yes I know how excited you are, but we explained why you had to stay with your father and I until you got on the train.”  


  
Magnus rolled his eyes. “I know, you’re all famous and my last name might make people be all weird and stupid.”  


  
The man smirked a little at his son’s blunt reply. “But I see you’ve already made a friend Maggie.”  


  
Magnus nodded with a grin, as the other boy politely offered his hand. “Yes Sir, my name is Peter Wesley.”  


  
Magnus felt his father go tense around him, he turned to look up at him. At the same time a woman approached the group, with a smile she placed a hand on her son’s shoulder, before looking across to Magnus and his Papa. Magnus saw the woman’s eyes widen as the colour drained from her face.  


  
“Harry?” Hermione gasped.  


  


  


  
 **Chapter One:**   


  
“Mr Potter, it appears the Headmaster wishes to see you in his office.” Professor Sprout clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, obviously not happy with having her class interrupted.  


  
“Yes Professor.” Harry glanced at Hermione in a silent request for her to look after his books if he’s not back in time, before sliding off his stool.  


  
“Perhaps Dumbledore is finally getting rid of the undesirable elements at Hogwarts.” Draco muttered to Pansy as he mashed up garden worms to feed to the baby Ferlions.  


  
Harry could hear Pansy snickering in response as he left the Hothouse. He knew that Ron would not leave the comment unaddressed and was actually grateful to be out of the Hothouse before the bickering truly got started. As he walked across the school grounds he thought about the rather childish behaviour, not just of Malfoy and his friends, but also those Harry called friends. They were in their last year of school and a war approached on the horizon, surely there came a time to put away petty insults and immature pranks.  


  
Harry had to wonder if his friends and the other students truly understood the reality of what was coming. Even with the death of Cedric Diggory, many still seemed to see things as an adventure, a game without consequences or cost. But for Harry the last six years had been filled with terror, pain and death. What may have started that first year as an adventure with friends had soon become a life of nightmares. It had taken him a few years, in fact it had taken seeing Cedric murdered in front of him, for Harry to realise, at last, that it was time to put away childish things.  


  
It was not until he heard the voices that he realised he’d walked all the way to Dumbledore’s office. He raised his hand to knock, when the voices became clearer to him. The concern and worry in Professor Snape’s voice made Harry hesitate.  


  
“Perhaps, Albus, it would be better if we did not give him the full details.”  


  
“This will affect his life as well Severus.”  


  
“Perhaps.” Severus paused. “But the prophecy only stated that it was I that must enter freely and with full awareness.”  


  
“Mr Potter, would you care to join us in a cup of tea.” Professor Dumbledore’s voice only rose slightly, and there was a trace of amusement to it.  


  
Harry blushed softly as he came into the office. Dumbledore may have been amused by catching Harry eavesdropping, Snape however, looked at Harry with a distasteful sneer. Dumbledore cleared his throat.  


  
“Perhaps we should start as we hope to continue, don’t you agree.” He said, somewhat cryptically, eying Professor Snape for a moment, before turning to smile at Harry. “Please Harry, have a seat.”  


  
“I was told you wanted to see me Headmaster?” Harry asked as he took his seat, looking between the two Professors.  


  
“Yes indeed, my dear boy, there has been a development in our fight against Voldemort. Possibly the best news we have ever received.”  


  
Snape gave a small choking noise at the Headmaster’s words. “Yes Severus, I understand your, reservations, but the prophecy does speak of our success.”  


  
“Another prophecy about me Sir?” Harry asked.  


  
“Oh yes, of course you would assume it was about you Potter, what with your belief you are the centre of all the Wizarding World.” Snape sneered. “Of all the egotistical, self-absorbed beliefs.”  


  
“Well I assumed, since the Headmaster summoned me, I was involved somehow, _Professor_.” Harry snapped back.  


  
“Which is a valid conclusion Harry.” Dumbledore soothed. “However, although you are a part of the prophecy its main focus was that of Professor Snape. At the end of the last school year, Severus was given a prophecy that stated if a spell was performed to form a connection between him and yourself, then we would not only defeat Voldemort, but our success would come before the war wrecked havoc on the world as we know it.”  


  
Snape gave a derisive snort at the word ‘connection’ but remained silent. Harry looked between him and Professor Dumbledore.  


  
“I don’t understand Sir, you’ve known of a way for us to win all this time and nothing was done about it.” Harry asked Dumbledore, then turned his gaze to Snape, the confusion in his voice turning to annoyance. “What? You hate me so much you’d prefer Voldemort to win, than have to do something like hold my hand!”  


  
“How dare you Potter! You have no idea what I have sacrificed in this war, do not assume you know the first thing about me!”  


  
Dumbledore raised his hand. “Now gentlemen, do not let ourselves get distracted. Harry, there were a number of reasons we have not spoken of this before now. Partly for security reasons, but mostly, the spell spoken of in the prophecy was unknown. It has taken us many months to locate the necessary information.”  


  
Harry muttered an apology with a quick and reluctant glance at Professor Snape, before turning back to Dumbledore. “I am not sure I understand Headmaster.” Harry choose to ignore the huff from Snape. “I thought there was a grand library that had a record of all spells.”  


  
“Indeed, Harry.” Dumbledore gave Harry an indulgent smile. “And although we were cautious about drawing attention to our search, we did search the records for weeks to find the spell, without any success. The spell we discovered was very ancient and shrouded in great secrecy, in fact it is my belief that it has been purposely hidden.”  


  
“Is it dark magic Professor?”  


  
“No Harry, we would not involve you or indeed, Severus if the spell was dark in origin. In fact the spell requires full knowledge from the supplicant, as well as it being undertaken freely. It would appear, actually, that if there was any doubts, any reservations the spell would fail.”  


  
“So why the secrecy Headmaster?”  


  
“It is our belief that the spell was originally created by a couple that were not satisfied with the standard marriage binding spells.”  


  
“What?” Harry exclaimed, interrupting the Headmaster. His eyes flew to Severus. “I’m supposed to marry you?”  


  
Professor Snape rolled his eyes. “Perhaps for once, you can listen to all the information before jumping to conclusions.”  


  
“As I said,” Professor Dumbledore’s voice remained calm. “The spell was developed for the specific interests of a couple, because of this it is ultimately a spell based in love. However it appears the spell created an unpredicted side effect, and because of the potential danger great effort was taken to hide the existence of this spell.”  


  
“Side effect Sir?”  


  
“I believe that if you and Professor Snape agree to this spell, his magic will combine with yours.”  


  
“It does more than combine them. Potter, your magic will be expanded, multiplied by the degree of my magic, this power will be available to you when you face the Dark Lord.”  


  
Harry slumped as the full realisation hit him. With access to that amount of power he could finally defeat Voldemort and his followers, he could bring peace to the Wizarding world, and finally live a normal life.  


  
“It is because of this the spell was hidden Harry.” Dumbledore’s voice was grave and solemn. “No one should have that much access to magical power. It could easily turn the heart of the best amongst us. I would not have brought it up at all, if not for the certainty of the prophecy.”  


  
“You think I will become the next Dark Lord, that I will let the power corrupt me?”  


  
Dumbledore steepled his fingers as he leaned towards Harry. “The spell requires nothing from you Harry, it exacts no cost, all the while benefiting you with large gifts. It is a temptation that many would struggle under.”  


  
“I’ve never wanted that power though Sir. I’ve never wanted to be the Chosen One, regardless what people might think.” Harry glanced across to Snape with his last words.  


  
Professor Dumbledore nodded. “But alas it will be you that faces Voldemort at the end, and this spell, it will come with many responsibilities, not just that of the power of magic. The reason you have your magic multiplied as it will be, is because Severus gives you what is his.”  


  
Harry nodded. “But this would mean we could end the war, right? Not just the end of Voldemort, but the whole thing, no more attacks, no more DeathEaters, we’d have peace.”  


  
Dumbledore paused, before nodding in response.  


  
“Then I don’t understand why everyone is being so dire, shouldn’t we be happy?” Harry questioned.  


  
“Because the cost is a lot to ask of someone.” Dumbledore almost sounded guilt ridden and sad.  


  
“I thought you said it wouldn’t cost me –“  


  
“Not you!” Severus angrily erupted. “How damn selfish are you?”  


  
“Severus, can you not see why I have concerns?” Dumbledore spoke softly to the Professor, who slumped into his chair. “Harry, the spell, it is not simply about voicing a connection between you both, nor is it a marriage bond. To put it simply, what we have found is an Enslavement Spell.”  


  
“Shit!” Harry felt himself go pale. “Umm, sorry Sirs, it’s just, I mean, I thought you said it wasn’t dark magic.”  


  
Dumbledore waves off the apology. “While you are correct, most enslavement spells are dark in nature, this one was created out of love and partnership. It requires full consent, the supplicant cannot be coerced. I do not believe there were any dark intents behind this spell.”  


  
“But, and no offense Professor Snape, but if he has to come from a place of love, there is no way he can cast a successful spell.”  


  
“It does not require love from me Potter, simply that I freely enslave myself to you.”  


  
“But Sir, how can you do that?”  


  
“You are not the only one, Potter, who craves an end to this war.” Snape replied with a clear determination.  


  
“So after we win, I could just free you?” Harry asked hopefully, looking to the two older men. He wasn’t unduly surprised to see the responding negative head shakes.  


  
“Unfortunately Harry, the spell is completely binding and unbreakable. Severus will be removed of all Wizard rights, he will be registered as a slave, and the spell will require certain...behaviours from him.”  


  
“Sir that’s, well that’s terrible.”  


  
“There is more Harry.”  


  
“Headmaster, I do not believe we need to discuss this.” Snape quietly interrupted.  


  
“Severus, he needs to understand. The spell might not demand his consent, but I do not believe we can proceed without it.”  


  
Snape sighed and nodded his acquiescence. There was something about the muted appearance of the Professor that started to concern Harry.  


  
“Harry, at the completion of this spell Professor Snape will become your slave. This is not just a term, his slavery will be, at the very least enforced magically, possibly even woven into his being. His status would be registered at the Ministry, and every wizard over the age of majority will be aware that he is a slave. As a slave he will not being allowed to own any possessions, live or travel independently. He will not be allowed a job, or his wand. He will not be allowed to have children, and his titles and bloodline will be removed from him.”  


  
Harry glanced from Professor Dumbledore to Snape, the younger Professor sat impassively. Harry doubted his own expression was as controlled, his stomach churned dangerously.  


  
“As his Master, you would be able to instruct Severus of course, where to work and live. He would be required to obey all your instructions in all areas of his life. For indeed, his life will be your possession. This is the point you have to understand Harry, if Professor Snape decides to perform this spell, the wizard you know will no longer exist. He will be your slave, your possession. You will be required to make all the decisions in his life and be the one responsible for all his actions.”  


  
“I think I’m going to be sick.” Harry murmured.  


  
“Well, don’t.” Snape responded dryly.  


  
“That’s easy for you to say.” Harry groused. “Oh god, you’ll have to, you know, follow me around and clean up after me or something. Wait. I could just instruct him to work as a potions master, and live here at Hogwarts couldn’t I?”  


  
“It’s possible Harry.” Dumbledore nodded. “But there are aspects, things you might need to consider.”  


  
“The spell does not put any requirements onto you, Potter, if you wish for me to remain working here after the war, then you can choose that. You could choose to leave me behind, forget about me as you can on with your life without consequence, as the spell itself will enforce my slavery in your absence.”  


  
Dumbledore gave a discreet cough. “Although that is true, it is not an approach I would recommend Harry. A spell has no conscious, no emotional or moral integrity. The spell will not take in Professor Snape’s wellbeing when it enforces the letter of the law.”  


  
“So I need to consent to this too, since it will be affecting my life.”  


  
“The spell does not technically require it, but considering you must take part in the invocation alongside Severus, I do require you to willingly partake.”  


  
“Mr Potter.” Snape’s voice was calm but demanding of Harry’s attention. “I will not, nor could I compel you to agree to invoke this spell. But I will say if it comes to a choice, I would rather live in the devastation of a spell enforced enslavement, than live under the devastation of the Dark Lord’s reign.”  


  
Harry swallowed hard. For all the talk, and Harry’s disgust at forcing anyone, even Snape into slavery, it did come down to that simple fact. This was Snape’s life they were discussion, and even if the spell would remove his ability to make decisions for himself after they invoked it, shouldn’t the initial decision be his. If Professor Snape was willing to sacrifice himself to end the war, shouldn’t they accept his right to choose?  


  
Harry couldn’t shake the feeling he was missing something, some element of slavery that wasn’t being discussed. He couldn’t tell if they were intentionally keeping information from him, or with so much to disclose something was left behind. It nagged at Harry, but with so much swirling around in his head, he couldn’t grasp at what question needed to be asked.  


  
“The spell needs to be performed the night before Halloween, so I think over the next few weeks you both should spend some time becoming, well, acquainted.”  


  
Harry looked horrified at the idea, and Snape even spluttered.  


  
“He is going to be your Master Severus, and even if the decision is made to _abandon_ you in your slavery, the spell will most likely require some degree of prior relationship between you both, even if on a superficial level. And then there is, of course, the intimacy required in the spell.”  


  
“Um, excuse me Headmaster, intimacy?” Harry asked, working to keep the fear from his voice.  


  
“Yes Harry, there is a large component of sexual magic entwined in this spell.” Dumbledore explained without a trace of emotion.  


  
“Oh,” was all Harry could manage to say.  


  


  


  


 **Chapter Two:**   


  
Harry sat across from Ron at dinner later that day. His eyes were fixed on the potato speared on the end of Ron’s fork. His friend was talking about something, quite passionately if the way the fork danced in the air was anything to go by, but Harry couldn’t find it within him to concentrate. Instead Harry watched the potato trying to determine how many more abrupt jerks of the fork it would take before the potato went flying.  


  
Dumbledore had dismissed Harry earlier from the meeting. He had said Harry needed some time to think over what was discussed while he and Snape would work out a way Harry could spend some time with the Potions Professor without garnering attention. He had been sworn to secrecy with promises not to tell anyone including his friends about what was discussed. No one could hear a word, of the prophecy or the spell until after it was successfully invoked.  


  
To some degree Harry was grateful for the secrecy. He couldn’t imagine talking to anyone about what had been discussed, especially not his close friends. Ron would be horrified Harry had to have sex with Snape, but would find that he would get to boss the Professor around highly amusing. Hermione on the other hand would be horrified at the whole idea of slavery, calling it barbaric and immoral, and would probably try to explain to Harry how sex magic wasn’t the same as actual sex.  


  
He doubted either of them would be able to listen to him, understand or at least help him understand all his reactions to discovering he had to take Snape as his slave. Dumbledore’s order was a convenient excuse not to talk to them, but he also wished there was someone he could talk to. Harry glanced at the Teacher’s Table. Professor Flitwick was currently talking with Professor Snape, who looked completely bored and irritated by the conversation. For a moment Harry wanted to catch Snape’s attention, and send him a wink of understanding. The thought confused him, knowing now of the prophecy did not suddenly make Snape his friend after all.  


  
But Dumbledore had said that the spell would work best if there was some level of association between them, that they should work on forming some type of relationship over the coming weeks. And if Harry was complete honest with himself, when he thought about having someone to talk to about everything, the only person that seemed to fit, to make sense was Professor Snape. He rejected the idea of course because he couldn’t imagine Snape doing anything but snidely dismissing any of Harry’s questions or concerns.  


  
“Harry!” Hermione’s voice broke through Harry’s thoughts.  


  
“Huh? Sorry.” Harry muttered, ducking his head.  


  
“I was talking to you for five minutes mate, were you even listening?” Ron sounded slightly annoyed.  


  
“Sorry I was just thinking.”  


  
“And staring at Professor Snape.” Hermione whispered conspiratorially.  


  
“Um, the Headmaster, he thought I might need to have more Occlumency lessons.” Harry grasped for a convincing lie.  


  
“Oh man, that really sucks, can you get out of it?” Ron groaned.  


  
“Ron,” Hermione chided. “If the Headmaster thinks Harry needs it because You-Know—“  


  
“Hermione not here.” Harry hissed to stop Hermione, even if it was all a lie, it wasn’t a lie they should be discussing in the grand dining room.  


  
“No, no, you’re right, sorry Harry.” Hermione apologised quickly, glancing around.  


  
“It still sucks though mate.” Ron muttered as he reached over to take another chicken leg off the serving plate.  


  
After dinner, Harry excused himself, saying he had some research he needed to do at the library. Hermione had looked like she was going to offer to come with him, until Ron slide his hand into hers, tugging lightly on it. Harry had never been so pleased his best friends were dating as he snuck off by himself to the school library. Although after two hours searching through the shelves, reading anything he could find on marriage binding or generational spells, Harry kind of wished he had Hermione’s brain to help him.  


  
Harry turned the corner and managed to collide with Professor Snape.  


  
“Potter, detention, my office tomorrow after class.”  


  
“Sir, it was an accident.” Snape did nothing but glare at him. “Ahh, right, yes Sir, tomorrow.”  


  
Snape gave a sharp nod, and with a swirl of his cloak turned and stormed off. Harry had to wonder if Snape had just taken advantage of a brief moment of Harry’s concentration, or whether he’d been waiting, watching for the right moment to be able to catch Harry in some behaviour that would justify detention. Of course, walking smack into one of your Professors probably wasn’t an accident that would get most students detention, but with Harry and Snape’s antagonistic relationship no one would think twice.  


  
Harry waited in the corridor outside of the Potions classroom as the fourth year students streamed out. A few of them glanced sympathetically towards Harry. The only reason any student, other than Slytherin, waited there was for detention, and detention with the Potion Master usually involved wasting out disgusting substances or cutting up slimy creatures.  


  
“Potter, stop dawdling and get in here.” Snape called out.  


  
Harry came into the class, seeing Snape standing by the door to his office. Unsure how this would proceed, Harry simply followed Snape’s lead. He had expected to have whatever discussion was to occur in Snape’s office, but instead of moving to his desk, Snape continued through his office, opening the door to his private quarters. Harry froze at the doorframe, uncertain about entering Snape’s rooms, what were for all intensive purposes Snape’s home. The glare Snape sent Harry over his shoulder, propelled him into the room.  


  
“I’ve come to see the Headmaster has a point, Pot...Harry, and we should at least work to be comfortable with each other.”  


  
“Yes Sir.”  


  
“Severus.”  


  
“Sorry, yes Severus.” Harry winced at the name.  


  
“Do you really think this is any easier for me.”  


  
“No, no I really don’t. We are not exactly friends, Professor... sorry Severus, in fact we are closer to being enemies than we are to being friends. It can’t just be for the prophecy.”  


  
“You think I want to be a slave?” The anger starting to show in Snape’s voice.  


  
“No, sorry I didn’t mean it like that. Look, I’m just trying to understand everything. I know the spell will have the greatest impact on you, but it’s also sort of my life as well, you know.” Harry saw Snape relax slightly, so he took a deep breath before continuing. “The prophecy, it didn’t say we would fail if we didn’t do this spell. We could still fight, I could still face Voldemort without you giving up everything you are.”  


  
Snape stopped to consider Harry’s words. “I think. Ok, Harry for the sake of the spell, I am going to speak honestly. I hope you have enough honour, regardless of your family name, to not use this information against me.”  


  
“Do not insult my father Severus.” Harry tensed again.  


  
“Until the spell, I am not under your command Potter, perhaps you should remember that.”  


  
“Incase you haven’t worked it out _Sir_ , I don’t ever want you under my command.”  


  
“Becoming Harry Potter’s slave is not my ideal future either.” Snape sneered.  


  
“Then why do it!” Harry cried out with pure frustration.  


  
“Because I am tired Potter.” Snape suddenly sunk into the fireside chair. “I have been fighting this war most of my life, I have seen people I cared about, people I loved destroyed by it all. I just want it over, I’m ready for it to end and this spell will guarantee that happens and happens quickly.”  


  
“At the cost of becoming a slave?” Harry asked quietly.  


  
“What would you give Harry, so no other child lost his parents? What do you think Neville Longbottom would do to ensure no one else has to visit the ones they love in a secure hospital ward?”  


  
Harry sank into the chair opposite Snape, unable to respond with anything other than a nod. He knew, had he had an option, there would have been nothing he wouldn’t have done to prevent his parents death. Enslavement would have been a small price to pay.  


  
“Sometimes you seem to forget this war has cost so many, that you aren’t the only one that has suffered at the Dark Lord’s hand. Is it really any wonder many consider you arrogant and pompous?”  


  
Harry wanted to object, but then his thoughts went to Neville again. The grief of losing his parents was still something Harry lived with, but it was a pain of memory. For Neville that pain was ongoing, his parents lived a death that never ended.  


  
“I never wanted to be special, to be the Boy-Who-Lived, you know. I didn’t ask for any of it.”  


  
“No one asks for war and suffering Harry.”  


  
Harry slumped, staring into the fire. “I can’t get passed the idea you hate me. I know there’s all these other points I should be thinking about, should be trying to understand, but instead the thought ‘but Snape hates me’ continues to circle my mind. I don’t know how you can get passed that, to bind yourself to me forever, even if it will mean the war ending.”  


  
“I have knelt before the Dark Lord, do you think I feel anything but hate for him?” Harry couldn’t help but cringe at being compared to Voldemort. But Snape raised his hand to forestall any argument. “My dislike of you Harry will not stop the spell being successful. But I should say, I do not hate you, I hate your name, I hate your resemblance to someone that tormented me for years. I am sure you have enough information about my past to understand why.”  


  
Harry nodded slowly. “But Pro...Severus, you also have to realise I am not my father. He died before I had the ability to even form memories of him. I know you think you see him in my behaviour, and I’m sure there are similarities, but I am not him, I don’t even know him.”  


  
“Perhaps Albus is right.” Severus noticed the look of confusion pass across Harry’s eyes, and his lips twitched into a smile. “The Headmaster, that is. Ever since we heard the prophecy he’s been recommending I attempt to talk civilly with you, and find a way to move past the hostility and ill will we have developed. He was always of the opinion that we could develop some sort of mutually beneficial relationship.”  


  
Harry gave a slight smile. “Well the Headmaster is always a very optimistic man.”  


  
Severus let out a surprised laugh. “Annoyingly so, in my opinion.”  


  
Harry let himself return the smile for a moment. “Sir, sorry I mean Severus, man it really is hard to remember to call you that. Anyway, when we were talking with the Headmaster and I said that after everything I would simply order you to continue working and living here, well Professor Dumbledore, he seemed unhappy with that suggestion. I don’t understand why, shouldn’t that be the best solution for everyone?”  


  
Severus stared into the fire for a long moment before sighing reluctantly. “On the surface it would seem so, but Harry there are things about this spell that you should know, that Albus believes you have a right to know. My reluctance is, however, that your Gryffindor morality will prevent you from agreeing to the spell. And Harry, I need you to know that I need this, I need this spell invoked, I need the war to be over.”  


  
Harry nodded solemnly. He could sense Snape’s desperation for the end of the fight against Voldemort went beyond what the rest of them felt about the war. He didn’t understand its source, but he could feel the sense of urgency coming from the Potions Master.  


  
“Although most people use the words interchangeably, a slavery spell and an enslavement spell are different in one major aspect. If this was a slavery spell, there would be no problem with your suggestion. I would become a slave, owned by you still, but I would simply be a slave, however, as this is an enslavement spell it works slightly different. I will still become a slave, but I would be a slave completely bonded to you.”  


  
“So you’ll only be my slave, not a slave to the Wizarding World?”  


  
“No. What I will feel for my Master, for... you, will be specifically only for you. But at the same time I will be known as a slave in the eyes of the law, I will be treated as a slave by everyone else.”  


  
“I keep trying to find something positive to hold onto in all this.”  


  
“A very Gryffindor desire, but alas foolhardy. Now back to my point if you don’t mind. This spell is unusual for two reasons, firstly it is an enslavement spell, like we have said, but it is an enslavement spell that requires no commitment or binding from the Master Wizard.”  


  
“I don’t understand, why is that so unusual?”  


  
“I can see why you weren’t sorted into Slytherin,” the look Snape sent him was more amused, than sarcastic. “If you wanted to turn someone into a slave for financial reasons, for revenge, actually for any reason other than love, then you would choose a slavery spell. That way you can destroy the wizard’s life and simply walk away, continue unhindered in your own life. The enslavement spell requires interaction, it predisposes a relationship between the parties.”  


  
“But that need, couldn’t a Wizard use it against the slave?” Harry paused, screwing up his face as he considered it. “No, there are far easier ways to torture someone.”  


  
“Exactly.” Severus acknowledged. “When we researched this spell, one thing became very clear. The wizards that created the spell were very much in love, as abhorrent as the idea might seem to you, this is in fact a love spell.”  


  
“But why make one person a slave?”  


  
“Personal preference Harry, for some people being submissive to their lover is appealing, and their ideal form of relationship. We actually believe this is probably behind the reason the spell does not equally bind the Master Wizard. In all other enslavement spells we know of the Master Wizard swears to protect and care for their slave, but there is no requirement in this one, leading us to believe the Wizards involved already had performed one or more commitment spells. It appears very likely that they had already performing at least marriage binding spell, so those commitments and guarantees were already created, and this spell only added an extra dimension to their magical partnership.”  


  
“Wow, I mean, I have sort of been thinking of the wizards that made up this spell as being, well, odd, strange, maybe even a little insane. And the Master Wizard, I suppose I couldn’t stop thinking you’d have to be an abusive bastard to want to do that to another person. But really they were just deeply in love, weren’t they?”  


  
Severus nodded. “It is one of the reasons Albus wants us to spend time together.”  


  
“Do we have to be in love?” Harry couldn’t keep the horror out of his voice.  


  
“Fortunately the spell doesn’t require that.” Snape’s lips twitched in amusement. “However, it might be easier for everyone if we moved past wanting the other person dead.”  


  
Harry wanted to rush to dispute he wanted harm to come to Snape when he recognised the dry humour in the Professor’s words.  


  
“So the spell will enslave you to me, will require you to serve me?”  


  
Severus nodded again. “It is likely to be more than a requirement, the binding of the spell will make me need to be with you, need to serve you.”  


  
Realisation was starting to dawn on Harry. “So my wonderful helpful suggestion wasn’t wonderful or helpful.”  


  
“In your defence Harry, you didn’t know the full facts, and I didn’t want your conscience, some misplaced sense of honour, to make you refuse.”  


  
“But if you hadn’t told me, if I didn’t know any better, and ordered you, left you here to teach when I graduated and left...”  


  
“It would have been the worse punishment possible, indeed, ending my life would be seen as more humane.”  


  
Harry felt himself go cold. “Fuck.”  


  
“Harry you need to know, even knowing all this, knowing what my life would likely become after you left Hogwarts permanently, I am still willing to freely enter into this enslavement spell.”  


  


  


  


 **Chapter Three:**   


  
“I want raspberry jelly please.” Rosalind tugged at the sleeve of Severus’ cloak.  


  
Severus looked to Harry, who nodded, fishing out some coin from his money pouch. “And afternoon tea for us Severus.”  


  
“Yes Sir,” Severus responded quietly, before holding out his hand for the young girl.  


  
“How could you do this Harry?” Hermione hissed as the remaining three took seats around the table in the cafe.  


  
“It’s just jelly Hermione, her teeth aren’t going to rot and fall out.”  


  
“That’s not what I mean Harry and you know it.”  


  
Harry sighed quietly, glancing over to where Severus was organising their refreshments. “I know Hermione, I’m sorry. But after everything, after all those years of fighting and that horrible day, I just needed to get away, to not be the Hero, the Chosen One. I know I should have talked to you both, you deserved that. But after it all was over, I was too fragile, too unstable. But I also know that doesn’t excuse the lack of contact over the years since.”  


  
“Yes I’m still upset about that Harry, but it’s still not what I’m talking about.” Hermione suddenly slammed her hand down on the table. “A slave Harry! How could you do that to Professor Snape!”  


  
Ron reached out, gently squeezing his wife’s hand as she fought to quieten her voice. “I know you never liked Professor Snape Harry, but turning him into a slave, it’s well, it’s barbaric. I don’t care what he did, it’s something you-know-who would do, not something you should have done.”  


  
Harry braced himself for her reaction to his next comment. “Hermione you need to stop calling him Professor Snape. There are rules about slaves in the Wizarding world, and one of them states they are to have no titles or surnames. And I do not want the spell to think attempts are being made to subvert his slavery.”  


  
As expected Hermione’s eyes hardened with anger. “You forced him into slavery with a spell. Harry how could you?”  


  
“He did no such thing.” Severus replied instead, as he placed a tray of tea and scones on the table, the components seeming to almost hover. “Master can you end the featherlight spell please.”  


  
Harry nodded absently, and used his wand to tap the tray cancelling out the light as a feather spell the cafe server had placed on the tray. Severus kept an eye on Rosalind, making sure she was sitting safely and properly in her chair before Harry passed her the dessert.  


  
“I willingly and freely chose to enslave myself to Harry, Mrs...Weasley.” Severus passed Harry’s tea to him before setting to pour the remaining cups.  


  
“Ms Granger actually, I kept my own name.”  


  
“Of course, how very new age of you.” Severus commented with such deadpanned dryness that Harry almost choked on his drink.  


  
“I believe in equality, so that’s why I can’t see anything good in all this.”  


  
Rosalind looked up from where she was digging the jelly out from under the whipped cream. “Severus became a slave to Papa so he could beat the bad guys.”  


  
“That’s right Rosie, and Ms Granger before you get angry with Harry, you need to think of what might have happened to you, and those you love, if **I** hadn’t made the decision I did.”  


  
Harry glanced between Severus and Hermione, both looking upset by the topic. He knew Hermione and her sense of morality. There were times when Hermione was unable to see that other people held different views of right and wrong from her. He wondered if she’d ever really understood that for many house-elves the idea of freedom was as abhorrent as the idea of slavery was to her. But he also knew how deeply she was hurt by injustice towards anyone. Severus on the other hand, held no concern about what people thought of him. He lived as a slave with the same dignity he always possessed as a free wizard. But Harry also knew the idea that others would think ill of Harry because of his choices would bring great pain to Severus.  


  
“What I don’t get mate,” Ron said, finally interrupting the silence, “is how you could just abandon the rest of us, after all we’ve been through. That really hurt Harry, more than you can know.”  


  
“I know, Ron, I really do know.” Harry paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He felt Severus reach over and place his hand on his thigh as he continued. “That final battle, the final time I faced Voldemort. I don’t talk about it, I’ve never talked about it with anyone. And I won’t. But I will say that day, when I walked back to the Castle I was barely holding onto my sanity. I was one crack away from being overcome, of losing my mind to dark, and pain, and insanity. I couldn’t bare it, I could face anyone, not even my dearest friends.”  


  
Harry moved his hand to Severus’ and moved them both until the fingers were interlinked. “When I got back into the castle and saw Severus, saw how close to death I had dragged him during that last fight with Voldemort. I had to get us both away, I knew I’d lose him, and probably my own mind if we didn’t have a place away to heal. I know you won’t fully believe me Hermione, but when Severus made the choice to give himself to me, so I would win, I also declared I would forever honour that choice, do everything in my power to respect and honour the man that became my slave. I refused to sacrifice him for our victory, and I would not let myself become the next villain some poor group of children had to fight.”  


  
Harry looked up at his two old friends. He noticed they sat, mirroring Severus and his postures with hands clasped together. He could see the sympathy and compassion in Hermione’s eyes, and even after so many years he could read Ron and her, see the understanding others could not begin to give. Harry reached his free hand over, and tucked Rosalind’s hair back behind her ear. He needed a moment, the reconnection with his family. Even if that came from receiving a look of adolescent annoyance. He met it with a look of his own, until his daughter giggled and returned to her dessert.  


  
“Albus got us out of Hogwarts. I still don’t really remember much, but he must have somehow managed to apparate us away. It took me a while before I became stable, and by then, well you know the things being said about me, everything about naming me the next Dark Lord, to people setting up cults to worship me. I couldn’t handle it, I didn’t want to handle it. I know you would have offered me complete support, I knew all I had to do was ask, but I just couldn’t, couldn’t bring myself to reach out to you both. I know it doesn’t make much sense.”  


  
“Harry,” Ron’s voice was tentative, even as he straightened himself assertively in the chair. “Do you want to disappear from your life again, wish we had never run across you at the train station?”  


  
Harry looked stunned. “Ron, I...”  


  
“I know Harry, but hear me out. No one can probably understand what you’ve truly been through.” Ron’s eyes flicked momentarily to Severus before returning to Harry. “So if you want to, or need to be some sort of recluse we’d get it, we might not like it but we’d understand. But if you want people in your life again, Hermione and I, we’ll always been your friends. It’s really that simple.”  


  
Harry felt Severus’ gentle squeeze of his hand as he turned to look at Hermione. “Hermione?”  


  
“In this case, my husband also speaks for me Harry. I wish you’d gotten in contact with us earlier, but if you disappear for another ten years, we’ll still be here for you.”  


  
“I really don’t deserve you two.”  


  
“Damn right.” Ron grinned.  


  
“So is Hermione going to kick my arse now?”  


  
“No mate,” Ron smirked. “But wait until Mum gets her hands on you.”  


  
“Oh no,” Harry playfully groaned. “Can I change my mind?”  


  



	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Four:**   


  
Harry dropped his books on the grass before settling down beside his friends. The weather remained nice despite autumn’s approach, and the school’s grounds were dotted with students taking in the last of the sun.  


  
“I hate defence!” Harry exclaimed dramatically as he leaned against the stone wall.  


  
“I know,” Ron nodded with lazy enthusiasm. “Correct punctuation and grammar is what’s important when fighting death eaters.”  


  
“Yep, might not know any spells, but the correct use of a semi-colon has been known to terrify many a dark wizard.”  


  
The boys laughed, until Harry looked over to Hermione. “Come on, Hermione, I know you think studying is the best thing ever and grammar is really cool. But she marked for spelling rather than any knowledge about actual spells.”  


  
Hermione huffed, caught between respect of a teacher, and frustration about the lack of teaching. “Well, at least this Professor isn’t evil.”  


  
“It’s kind of worrisome that that’s the benchmark we all have for defence Professors, ‘as long as they aren’t evil’.”  


  
Ron and Hermione turned to Harry, looking at him oddly.  


  
“What?”  


  
“I don’t know mate, you just sounded all grown up like.” Ron grinned.  


  
Harry retaliated with a playful punch, but he did wonder. Over the last few weeks he had been spending a lot of time with Professor Snape. In fact, he had probably spent more time with him than he did with his friends. At first, their conversations were stilted, discussions solely focused on the spell. But there had been a cautious move to more conversation, and Harry attempted to meet Snape on an adult level.  


  
He didn’t think he was enjoying his visits with Severus, the Professor was still often rude and quick to point out Harry’s faults, but Harry no longer completely dreaded his time down in the dungeons. It was a strange sort of friendship, built on necessity and distrust. If Harry was completely honest with himself, there was something about Severus’ personality, the rudeness, the dry wit he’d use to tear people down. Harry knew he was a polite person, often excessively, but he hoped that the spell would not remove the way Severus was.  


  
“Harry?” Hermione’s voice interrupted his thoughts.  


  
“Huh?” Harry looked over, drawing back to his friends.  


  
“You’ve really been out of it lately Harry. Is something happening we should know about?”  


  
“No, nothing. Hey why aren’t you at Potions?”  


  
Hermione frowned, disappointedly. “You really aren’t paying much attention lately. Potions has been cancelled today.”  


  
“What? Why?” Harry couldn’t keep the concern from his voice.  


  
“Huh, Harry mate, you don’t even have potions anymore, why are you worried?” Ron nudged his foot against Harry’s.  


  
Harry just shook his head in response.  


  
“He’s sick or something, the first year class said he didn’t turn up, and the Headmaster has cancelled the class for the rest of the day.”  


  
Harry was on his feet before Hermione’s hand gripped his arm, holding him in place. “Where are you going?”  


  
“Um, to see the Headmaster, maybe it’s something about Voldemort.”  


  
“Harry, if something was going on Professor Dumbledore would tell us, Snape’s just sick and anyway, we have class in five minutes.”  


  
Harry looked towards the castle for a minute, wanting to rush into the Headmaster’s office. Something did not sit right with him, a worrisome nagging in his stomach. But he had no reason to barge in, even if something was wrong, Snape was not his, not yet.   


  
The idea shocked him. Somehow while struggling to even consider Snape a friend, he’d begun to see Severus as his property, his to be responsible for, to be in command of. The idea that that Severus was laying in his quarter’s sick and no one had told him upset Harry. But there was an idea that something was seriously wrong, and no one had informed him brought anger racing through him.   


  
He didn’t know where these feelings of ownership came from, and he was pretty sure that Severus would laugh in his face if he knew. Halloween was approaching fast, and with it, the time when Severus would belong totally to Harry. Then, Harry not being kept informed could be dangerous for Severus, but for now, Harry knew he really had no reason to be upset.  


  
But still he couldn’t concentrate in class. Ron had to nudge him more than once to get his attention. Harry had to acknowledge to himself that he considered Snape a friend, that he liked spending time with him, and did actually worry, even if it just turned out to be a cold keeping the Potion’s Master from class.   


  
He also realised he needed to make up some convincing story for his friends. The situation would only get worse after Halloween and the spell behind Snape to him. At the time he’d been relieved when the Headmaster had said no one could know until Voldemort had been defeated. He hadn’t wanted to talk to his friends about any sort of relationship he’d have to have with Snape. But now, as he grew closer to Severus, he wasn’t sure how to keep his friends from being concerned.  


  
He’d pushed the thoughts away, berating himself with a voice that he had to admit sounded a lot like Professor Snape’s. He’d managed to get through dinner that evening without constantly staring at the empty chair at the teacher’s table. He’d convinced himself that Snape was simply under the weather, and his possessive tendency would be unappreciated by Severus if he knew.   


  
His calm evaporated the next morning when Snape’s chair remained empty, and the sense of foreboding hit Harry full force again. He knew half the dining hall was watching him, and he was vaguely aware of Hermione calling out his name as he slammed his plate down on the table and stormed out of the room.  


  
He’d gone to the dungeon first, hoping the guardian would open the door to let him into Severus’ room. But the snake had remained silent, the carving remaining wrapped up in a tight knot. If Severus had been inside it would have at least, sent him away. Its inactivity was a clear indication that Severus wasn’t in his room and therefore not hold up in bed with a bad head cold.   


  
“What the hell is going on?” Harry demanded as soon as he walked into Dumbledore’s office.  


  
“I will remind you of whom you are talking to, Mr Potter.” Professor Dumbledore’s voice remained calm, even as he fixed Harry with a stern glare.  


  
“I don’t care right now Headmaster, I know something has happened to Severus.” Harry remained forceful, his concern for Snape overriding his respect for the Headmaster.  


  
“I understand you are concerned Harry, but I am not sure Severus would want you to know of his situation.”  


  
“Headmaster,” Harry sighed, trying to contain his anger. “You have told me how important this spell is, this binding of Severus to me. But if it’s to work, I can’t be seen as the kid, not by you or him.”  


  
“I know Harry, but Severus is a proud man.”  


  
“Professor, please, just tell me.”  


  
“Yesterday morning, Severus was summoned by Voldemort.”  


  
“Oh god, does he know, is Severus alright?” Harry interrupted.  


  
Dumbledore held up his hand to silence Harry. “I doubt Voldemort has any idea about the spell. We kept knowledge of it very secret, it wasn’t until recently that you were even informed. No I am sure this is about some other business.”  


  
“Then why isn’t he back?” Harry chewed on his lip.  


  
“I do not know Harry. We will have to wait patiently, and hope for the best.”  


  
“Hope for the best?” Harry’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious, I’ve, we’ve just got to sit around and wait, hope that he’s not been tortured to death.”  


  
“Harry, I know, but this is how it’s always been.”  


  
Harry sighed again. He wanted to, well, he wanted to punch Dumbledore, or rush off to find Severus, to save him from Voldemort. He wanted it all to be over, or to have a different life. He knew Dumbledore was right. As much as he hated it, all he could do was sit and wait for Severus’ return.  


  
“He can’t do this anymore.” Harry drew his hand through his hair, still trying to sort out his reactions. “I’m sorry, Headmaster, after the spell, I can’t allow it, to put him at such risk constantly.”  


  
Dumbledore looked at Harry, and for a moment Harry got the distinct impression he was being examined, like a butterfly pinned down. “Harry, after the spell Severus won’t be able to work as a spy for us any longer, his status as a slave would be known to all.”  


  
Harry’s mouth dropped open, and his hands clawed around the arms of his chair. “So what, Sir, you thought you’d get one last shot in, put him at risk one more time before he became useless to you?”  


  
Harry had known that Professor Dumbledore was a powerful wizard, but he’d always thought of him as the Headmaster, gentle, a little strange, always there with a kind word and a lemon sherbet. Right now though, Harry sat opposite from the wizard that made others defer and powerful wizards cower in respectful fear. It scared Harry and he knew he’d never underestimate the Headmaster ever again.  


  
“Do not think for a moment that I do not fear for Severus.” Dumbledore’s voice was as hard and cold as steel. “Nor that I do not know what I have asked from him, what cost I have required he pay for this fight Mr Potter. Professor Snape is also an adult, still able to make choices over his own life. And although one day that will change, I recommend, Mr Potter, that you do not consider that means he will become a brainless, less than dignified Wizard.”  


  
Harry swallowed and nodded. He wondered if the Headmaster was correct. Had he begun to diminish Snape in his head? He’d been told, over and over, that he’d have to take ownership of the Professor, that he’d be required to control and govern the wizard’s life. He had come to accept that, to not shudder at the idea of having Severus kneel at his feet. But had he become to like the idea too much, was too eager to remove the honour and dignity from the man.  


  
Harry couldn’t help but notice the irony as well. For all the years he had known Professor Snape the older wizard had accused him of being an arrogant brat who had an over-developed sense of his own importance. He had, of course, argued against that, considered Snape to be biased against him and just downright rude. But he found, now that Severus had stopped bringing up Harry’s arrogance, probably in preparation for the spell, he was beginning to wonder if there was a truth to Snape’s comments.  


  
He had assumed at the age of 17 he had a right to know what Dumbledore, Snape and probably the Order had planned. He was acting like he had importance and power beyond his status. Yes, there was a prophecy that said he would face Voldemort, but he was a child still, even if he was a teenager. He cringed now, thinking of all the times he’d acted just as Snape had always accused him. As he got older, as the fight against the dark forces grew more intense, more dangerous, he had to realise he didn’t hold all the answers, had to learn to turn to, and trust those that had been fighting this war a lot longer than himself.  


  
“It’s just,” Harry mumbled, looking down at his hands. “I worry about him Sir. It’s surprised me, and I’m sure Professor Snape would laugh in my face, but he’s sort of, well, a friend now”  


  
When Harry looked up, Professor Dumbledore’s face had softened. “I’m sure Severus would be pleased to consider you a friend, Harry.”  


  
Harry snorted softly, not wanting to directly dispute the Headmaster, but unable to keep the sound of derision from escaping. He knew the Professor sincerely hoped for the best, and even with his own developing sense of friendship, Harry could not see Snape looking upon him as anything more than an annoyance.   


  
He had to wonder again why the Potions Master had willingly agreed to perform the spell. When Harry had asked him directly, Severus had said that there came a time when being bound forever to Potter was the lesser torture. Now, as he waiting for Severus’ return, Harry could only imagine what the greater torture must entail.  


  
The day crawled on for Harry. He wondered how many days like this there had been in the past, days when some member of the Order suffered in silence, or became lost, even temporarily in the darkness. How many times he had gone to class, or spent time with his friends while the war raged close and unseen? With Voldemort’s return, these times could only be increasing, becoming more visible and regular.  


  
It was after Defence class when Harry saw Dumbledore again. He’d come out of the classroom with Hermione and Ron, the three of them arguing about how to spend their free period before lunch. Hermione had of course decided they should take the time to work on their homework, while the boys declared a ‘free period’ should be free of school work. The argument was light-hearted and considering none of them had any pressing assignments to finish it seemed foregone that they would end up back at the Gryffindor dormitory.  


  
“Harry, a moment.” Professor Dumbledore requested as he rounded the corner at the exact same moment the three youngsters approached it. Harry nodded, and could only offer his friends a quick shrug as the Headmaster continued to walk down the corridor, expecting Harry to follow.  


  
“Headmaster?” Harry questioned as he caught up with the older man.  


  
“Not here Harry.” The Headmaster’s voice was calm but it held a clear warning.  


  
The Headmaster led Harry through the school corridors, after a few turns Harry realised he was being taken down towards the Dungeons. It was only when Dumbledore stopped outside the doors to Severus’ rooms that Harry realised they had not seen another student since the Headmaster collected him from the corridors near the Defence class. He glanced at the Headmaster, who returned an enigmatic smile as he pulled out his wand and tapped the Guardian gently to gain access.  


  
He found his way to Severus’ bedroom. The Professor lay on his bed, his pallid complexion was nothing like his usual pale appearance. The skin had a waxy tone to it that gave the impression of death, in fact Harry may have feared Severus was dead except for the constant tremors that ran through his body. Harry instantly recognised the signs. He had written enough essays about the Unforgivable Curses to know the symptoms of someone suffering the effects of a Cruciatus Curse.  


  
“I was alerted of his return about 20 minutes ago. It seems Voldemort was not in a favourable mood.”  


  
Harry sunk to his knees beside Severus’ bed. His own hand trembled as he reached out to cover the Professor’s. Severus seemed unaware of Harry’s presence as he suffered through the remaining pain caused by the inflicted curses. “Headmaster?”  


  
“It is often one of the prices Severus pays for his service.” Dumbledore’s tone was, for a moment, filled with grief as his hand rested on Harry’s shoulder. “Now perhaps you will understand why he is so desperate for this war to be over.”  


  


  


  
  
  


  
 **Chapter Five:**   


  
It was only when food arrived that he realised he’d spent the most of the day sitting at Severus’ bedside. He hoped Dumbledore had provided some explanation for his absence so his friends hadn’t become concerned. Confronted with the sight of Severus convulsing under the effect of a Cruciatus Curse, Harry hadn’t wanted to leave. It had been horrific to watch, and Harry felt useless to help. There was little anyone could do, Harry understood that, but again, the preparation for the spell left Harry feeling protective. He wanted to help, he wanted to be able to take away Severus’ suffering.  


  
“Potter, what are you doing in my quarters?” A weak voice sounded from the bed.  


  
“I, ah, watching you.” Harry stammered out.  


  
“That’s more than a little creepy.”   


  
That startled a laugh out of Harry, and Severus looked up at him as if he had lost his mind. Harry was beginning to wonder, himself, just how much of a hold he had on his own sanity.   


  
“It’s just, you weren’t really conscious, and you wouldn’t stop shaking, and it looked really bad.” Harry felt himself start to blush, pretty sure he wasn’t helping his case. “I just couldn’t leave you like that Severus, I might not have been able to fix it, but I didn’t want you to be alone.”  


  
“How very Gryffindor of you, and ultimately pointless.” Severus groaned as he moved to sit up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.  


  
Harry crossed his arms over his chest, in an effort not to rush over to Severus to help him to his feet. He knew he’d be likely to be on the end of a curse himself if he did. Severus was nothing, if not proud, and to be treated like an invalid, or worse, like a child, would be more insulting than anything Voldemort had done to him.  


  
Severus watched Harry for a moment. “Well don’t just stand there like a gormless idiot, organise a pot of tea.”  


  
Harry bit back a smile as he nodded, heading into the sitting room. He knew how to read Severus pretty well. He knew he’d been sent out of the room because Severus wanted and needed the privacy of getting dressed. Privacy was something Severus always prided, and something others had always tried to rip from him. He was a man of secrets, and as a spy it was those secrets that kept him alive, even as his Masters demanded he laid himself bare. Soon he’d have to give up his privacy to Harry, so for now they accorded Severus as much as possible.  


  
Harry also understood the gruff demand was Severus’ way of allowing Harry to show his concern and caretaking without having to lose any dignity. They had discovered this compromise relatively early in their relationship. Severus would remain rude and ungrateful and Harry would be able to fulfil his need to be polite and helpful. It was also, Harry suspected, a way for Severus to allow Harry into his life.  


  
“Stop looking at me like that.” Severus grumbled as he took a seat opposite from Harry at a small table.  


  
“I just didn’t realise it was that bad.”  


  
“It’s called an unforgivable curse for a reason.” Severus snorted as he took the offered tea. “But no, it is not normally that severe. The Dark Lord was... annoyed and decided to take it out on me. It was half a day until I was able to summon enough strength to return to the Castle.”  


  
Harry’s hand gripped tightly around his own tea cup, suddenly needing the warmth from the liquid. The images in his mind of what Severus had endured drained all the warmth from Harry. The idea of Severus submitting to curse after curse without reprieve or intervention just to placate Voldemort made Harry’s stomach clench. Again he was confronted with the knowledge of what others had endured in their struggle against the dark forces that threatened the world. It made him wonder if he constantly looked childish and self-pitying to those around him.  


  
Harry noticed Severus was looking at him slightly oddly. The older wizard held his tea cup in a shaky hand, but his eyes were strong and steady. “The thing about Cruciatus is it remains a physical pain, it doesn’t rob from the sufferer, it doesn’t make him fear for those he loves, or remind him of what he has lost. We’ve all paid a price in this war Harry, it is just easier to see that price when it is physical.”  


  
Harry nodded slowly, swallowing down his tears and desire to babble thanks to Severus. He knew neither would be welcome, but he also felt that in that moment they sat together as equals, as fighters in a war with acknowledgement of the scars that were carried. Severus kept himself tightly guarded against others, but Harry was beginning to see he’d been let through some of the gaps in Severus’ defences.  


  
Life continued for Harry in its odd rhythm. He went to his classes, struggled with his lessons. He’d never been an excellent student, but with Hermione’s help (and nagging) he’d managed to scrape by. Although he had discovered since spending time in the evenings with Severus his grades had been improving. It wasn’t just that he had access to Severus’ library, nor time set aside simply to study. He often found himself discussing his study with Severus, not as he would with a teacher. Severus didn’t exactly offer extra tutelage, but their discussions increased Harry’s knowledge and propelled him into thinking alternatively or more deeply about the subjects involved.  


  
A lot of the time spent with his friends had become discussing the reports about Voldemort and the Death Eaters. The Daily Prophet was no longer denying the return of Voldemort, and although they buried many of the stories, there was a growing awareness of the attacks occurring in Voldemort’s name. Along with the Prophet students had also begun to smuggle in the more fringe, or non-Ministry approved magazines and newspapers.  


  
They would all discuss the reports, trying to piece together the real situation, the way the war was falling. Many of the reports were obviously faked, while others didn’t tell the full picture and horror. Most of his friends looked to Harry, as if he held some special information that the rest of them didn’t. It amused Harry slightly, how easily he’d been labelled a hero, then demonised and was back to being the Chosen one.   


  
All he really knew was that Voldemort seemed to be building towards something. But this mostly came from reading all the same articles as his friends. Neither Dumbledore nor Severus were including him in any private meetings and he wasn’t having access to any of the Order information. In fact he was being kept as removed from the Order as possible. Everything, it seemed, relied on Harry defeating Voldemort before the Dark Wizard’s power became too immense, and that in turn relied completely on Harry and Severus completing the spell on Halloween Eve.  


  
It was during a discussion about a reported battle between Order members and Death Eaters at Land’s End that the reality suddenly hit Harry. He’d been listening to Dean arguing with Seamus about whether they would choose such an out of way place to battle when he suddenly let out a gasp and felt the colour drain from his face. Everyone had turned to him with looks of confusion and apprehension, but he’d managed to wave them off, back onto the discussion of where the next attack would be.  


  
After a few minutes Harry managed to slip away from the group. Over the last few months it had become easier to leave his friends without questions or accusations when he returned, they had all become used to Harry needing time to himself. This time Harry didn’t head down to the Dungeons, didn’t take the time to spend alone with Severus. Instead he slipped out of the school and into the grounds, finding his way across to the old ramparts that still encircled parts of the Castle. The icy wind made him long for the roar of a good fire, but he needed time alone, away from everyone’s critical gaze to adjust.  


  
It was stupid in a way, how it had taken so long to register. He had focused on getting to know Severus and become comfortable in the Potion Professor’s company. Although the spell would not require love or even an intimate relationship between the two men, they had still felt it was important to have some type of relationship, or at the very least an absence of hostility between them. On top of all that was the added pressure of the element of sex magic involved with the spell. So perhaps it wasn’t that odd that until now Harry had forgotten about the real purpose of performing this spell.  


  
Severus and Harry were not star-crossed lovers, and they were not fated to be together. In fact any connection the spell would create was inconsequential. The point of the spell was to imbue Harry with enough power to defeat Voldemort. And it was just now that Harry understood the reality of that. He did not know what he had thought this would mean, but he had not pictured himself standing before Voldemort to challenge him in battle.  


  
The-Boy-Who-Lived had not defeated Voldemort; he had simply gotten lucky and survived. Now he would actually have to battle the dark wizard. He couldn’t rely on luck, or even the defence of others. This spell would increase his magical power and make victory possible, but it will still require him to face Voldemort and fight him. And now as he stared across the cold Scottish countryside, he also realised that it would also probably require him to kill the other man.  


  
Harry didn’t know how long he sat against the stone wall, letting the cold seep into his bones. He wanted to rage against the injustice, he wanted to yell and scream, demand to know why it was him. It wasn’t fair and he hadn’t asked for any of it, but that didn’t stop it happening. He was facing a battle that no one else was, an intimate savage fight against the most powerful dark wizard of all time. Harry felt overwhelmed, sick with fear and dreadful loneliness. He was facing a future he couldn’t talk to any of his friends about, and even if he could, they wouldn’t be able to begin to understand.  


  
Harry didn’t look up as a figure settled beside him. The feet were too big to belong to anyone but Severus, although he was surprised the other man was willing to sit on the cold dirty ground. He didn’t speak, didn’t ask Harry why he was sitting outside, reprimand him for being outside after curfew or belittle him for over exposed ego. They simply sat in silence.  


  
“I don’t want to kill anyone.” Harry said to the silence.  


  
“I don’t think anyone ever truly does Harry. Soldiers that go off to war, wizards that fight for good, or evil bad. Unless you are truly insane, taking another’s life destroys something in you that can never be restored, it is not something that is hoped for one’s future.”  


  
“But I’m going to have to kill him.”  


  
“Yes Harry, you are. Perhaps it was always fated that you would be the one that would be there for the final confrontation, the final battle. But we hope, that with what I will give you, not only will many lives be saved, but also that you too will be able to survive.”  


  
“Maybe its best I don’t. I mean, with enough power to defeat him, won’t I become the next one to be feared and hated.”  


  
“There will be people that will fear you after this Harry, of course there will be. But do you really think I’d go through all this if I thought for a moment that it would result in me enslaved, yet again, to another dark Master?”  


  
Harry turned his head slowly to look up towards Snape. Had the Professor actually acknowledged having faith in Harry, not only to defeat Voldemort but remain honourable and trustworthy in the process?  


  
Severus met Harry’s gaze, his lips twitching slightly towards a smile. “I’m not admitting to anything Mr Potter.”  


  
Ron looked up from the chess board as another group of girls circled passed them. When they glanced over at the table and saw Harry sitting across from Ron giggles erupted from the group. It had been happening for days, girls in groups of four or more seemed always to be around, and whenever they got too close to any of the older boys they would giggle and blush.  


  
“This is why I love having a girlfriend.” Ron shared conspiratorially.  


  
“Huh?”  


  
“I don’t have to worry about being attacked by a roaming gaggle of girls.” Ron grinned. “And I have a guaranteed date.”  


  
“A date? Huh?” Harry glanced around the Hall confused. He noticed that most of the girls were huddled in groups, standing close or looking out over the senior boys.  


  
“Halloween Ball, mate. Not even you, with your level of extreme distraction can’t have failed to notice all the preparations for the ball.”  


  
“It’s a dance, how interested should I be?” Harry rolled his eyes.  


  
“It’s not all formal or anything, it actually sounds like a good night.”  


  
“So I’ll just go by myself, tag along with you and Hermione.”  


  
“Like we’d be seen with a lame loser like you!”  


  
Harry laughed and tossed a wrapped chocolate frog at Ron’s head.  


  
By the time Harry arrived at Snape’s quarters he was about ready to hex anyone that said the word ‘ball’. He sunk down on the small sofa opposite the fireplace and pulled his books out from his school bag. When Harry opened up his History of Magic text book a small pink paper butterfly fluttered out from the pages. Harry’s groan drew Severus’ attention, and the professor let the smirk show as the butterfly exploded in a flash of confetti and a piece of paper with a Hufflepuff girl’s name floated down onto Harry’s lap.  


  
“Don’t even think about it.” Harry growled when it looked like Severus was about to laugh.  


  
“Believe me I am just as fed up with anything related to this Ball. I have given so many demerit points and threats of detention in the last few days. Damn Albus and his desire to create school spirit.”  


  
“Like you’ve got it bad.” Harry shook his head when Snape went to dispute Harry. “No, seriously, try being a single senior boy when young girls are desperate for a date to the dance. Even Death Eaters would look for a secure hiding place.”  


  
Severus gave a quiet laugh. “So who have you decided to ask?”  


  
Harry looked startled by the question. “Professor it’s the day after the spell, I assumed I wouldn’t be going.”  


  
“Actually Harry it would probably be for the best if you did attend this ball like normal, even taking a date.”  


  
“Severus, I can’t just form this lifetime connection to you, then go to a school dance the next day like it means nothing, that’s not how I want this thing with us to be.”  


  
“And under any other circumstance I would say that speaks of great honour. However we both know the circumstances we face. The Ministry will instantly be informed of my status as a slave, and even if the Dark Lord does not have spies to inform him, he will either be aware of my performance of high magic, or gossip will eventually reach his ear. We are still relying on the element of surprise Harry, so even if it is discovered that I have relegated myself to slavery no one will hopefully guess of your involvement.”  


  
“So I’m just suppose to neglect you, abandon you as I carry on with being a teenager, dancing and dating like I don’t have a slave to consider?”  


  
“As much as you have said you don’t want me bowing and scraping, and as much as I don’t want to bow and scrape, this spell will change things for me Harry.” Severus sighed and stared into the fire. “Ensure I know I am not being left alone as punishment, praise me for staying in my quarters and I will be happy.”  


  
“I hate this.” Harry stated vehemently.   


  
“We both wish the path to success lead in a different direction Harry, but this is the path we must take. Or were you simply hoping that owning a slave would provide you with a reason to avoid the Ball.”  


  
Harry looked at Severus for a moment, then cocked a grin. “Well there has to be some benefits.”  


  


  


  


  
  


  
 **Chapter Six:**   


  
“Papa, why is Father threatening to hex your wardrobe?”   


  
Harry turned from where he was washing his hands to glance at where his daughter was leaning against the doorframe. Shaking his head he mused Rosalind’s hair as he stepped around her and headed down to the bedroom. Inside, he closed the door behind him and lent against it. Across the room Severus stood with his arms crossed over his chest muttering under his breath. Even with his back to him, Harry knew the glare that would be on Severus’ face.  


  
“Severus, what has the wardrobe done to deserve such ire?” Harry didn’t even bother to keep the amusement from his voice.  


  
“It ate your boots.” The reply was said so seriously that for a moment Harry had to wonder if somehow his wardrobe had suddenly been cursed.  


  
“What boots?”  


  
“The black ones, I need to polish them for tonight.”  


  
“Ah” Harry said, as Severus’ behaviour suddenly became clear to him. They had discovered early that when Severus felt any anxiety or nervousness the spell would translate it into an oppressive need to serve.   


  
“Don’t ‘ah’ like you aren’t just as bad.” Severus frowned into the wardrobe.  


  
“I’m not threatening to hex inanimate objects though.”  


  
“Right, but how many times have you washed your hands.”  


  
“Do not go there Severus.” Harry’s voice took on a hard edge.  


  
Severus instantly turned, dropping to his knees and lowering his forehead to the floor. “Forgive me Master.”  


  
Noticing Severus’ extreme reaction, Harry slipped down to sit on the edge of the bed, the edge of anger dissolving. “Come here Severus.”  


  
Harry pressed his lips to Severus’ forehead, both men taking the time to find the calm. “So I think it’s safe to say we are feeling a little stressed. You would think after having to face Voldemort, Mrs Weasley wouldn’t seem so terrifying.”  


  
Severus cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at Harry. “You’ve met Molly Weasley, right Master?”  


  
Harry grinned at Severus, then the smile softened as the other man took Harry’s hands in his own, engulfing them in Severus large hands. Harry sat there for a while, allowing Severus’ comfort to calm his heart.  


  
“Go check the wet room for the boots, I think I left them there last Thursday.” Harry reached up to brush strands of Severus’ hair back behind his ear. “And I’ll go try to wrangle my daughter into a dress.”  


  
Harry stood at the doorway to his daughter’s room, surveying the disaster area. It appeared every dress Rosalind owned had been pulled from the wardrobe only to be discarded on the bed. The scene was a stark reminder that adolescence was fast approaching. The idea was more than a little daunting. But at least, Harry thought with a silent chuckle, most of her adolescence would take place far away at Hogwarts.  


  
“I’m sure there must be at least one dress you want to wear?”   


  
Rosalind looked up with an exaggerated pout. “I don’t know why I have to wear a dress anyway.”  


  
“Because the Weasleys are close family friends and we want you to look pretty.”  


  
“It’s going to be so boring, I just want to stay at home.”  


  
“I’m pretty sure there’ll be other kids your age there to play with, Flower.”  


  
Rosalind let out an annoyed huff. It sounded so much like Severus, Harry had to bite back his laughter. He watched his daughter sit cross legged on the floor, fingers pulling at the tattered fabric of her jeans. Harry knew his family, and right now his daughter’s body language was speaking to more than nerves about meeting new people. He pushed aside some of the clothes scattered on the bed to make room for himself.  


  
“So why don’t you really want to go to the Weasleys?”  


  
“I don’t want people to be mean to Severus.” Rosalind moved, slowly, subtly until her shoulder was resting against Harry’s leg. “I mean, I know he’s your slave Papa, and that makes him different than normal people, that he has to be polite to others, and do whatever you tell him to do. But that doesn’t mean people should treat him like he’s brainless, or dirty.”  


  
Harry wasn’t sure how to respond. He wanted to be able to tell Rosalind that Severus would be given nothing but respect at the Weasleys, but he couldn’t guarantee it. Although he was sure Arthur and Molly Weasley would treat Severus respectfully, he was not so sure that many of their children wouldn’t see an opportunity for a little revenge. On a simple level Severus had antagonised, berated and belittled most of the younger Weasleys during their time at Hogwarts, added to that the fact many still doubted his allegiance during the war.  


  
The majority of wizards that recognised Severus believed his slavery was punishment for his crimes during the war. It used to annoy Harry when he realised the looks of disgust were not so much about the slavery as they were about the view of Severus as a spy for the Dark Lord. They, therefore, looked upon the slavery as a punishment unaware that Severus’s slavery was a gift to the wizarding world as it allowed the quick defeat of Voldemort. Harry had always wanted to rush into defence of Severus, repudiate the claims of punishment, but Severus had always stopped him, saying at least if they despised him, no annoying reporter or inane housewife wanted to come and shake his hand, and discover his story.  


  
He doubted Arthur or Molly would permit any of their children to treat Severus like he was dirty or diseased. Harry didn’t worry himself, too much, about the idea of snide remarks and a few insults, Severus wasn’t a child, he wasn’t totally defenceless. Treating Severus like slavery made him somehow less, to be pitied, or protected was likely to result in only a very pissed off Severus, hence part of Harry’s growing anxiety. One thing was certain about tonight’s visit to the Weasleys, Molly, and at least Hermione were bound to look at Severus with such pity and think they would need to take care of him, rescue him. And there was no way Harry could see that going well.  


  
“I want you to be polite to the Weasleys Rosie. I know you don’t like people acting like Severus is worthless, but you have to remember that if you are rude or act arrogant towards him then you are treating him just as badly. Severus is a grown man and he doesn’t need people, especially 10 year old people taking care of him.”  


  
Rosalind gave a quick glare at the 10 year old comment. “But you take care of him all the time.”  


  
“Yes I do, it’s my job, Severus agreed to let me do that job when he became mine.” Harry watched his daughter huff with annoyance, as he bit back a smile. “How about you wear your green dress?”  


  
“I can’t play in a dress.” Rosalind responded stubbornly.  


  
“But I know Severus loves that dress.” Harry felt a little guilty using his slave this way to manipulate his daughter, but being a parent had taught him you use every advantage you can get.  


  
They were only five minutes late when Harry finally apparated his family to outside The Burrows. Their home on Raasay wasn’t set up to the Floo System because of Harry’s distrust and need for privacy. Being able to borrow Severus’ magic strength through the enslavement spell allowed Harry to apparate them all great distances safely.  


  
The Burrows seemed to have grown since Harry was last there, although perhaps the obvious repairs made it look bigger. Harry was pleased to see it still looked ramshackle, as for him that was all part of the charm, the love he had for this home. But he also knew the growing fortunes of the Weasley family enabled them to repair and refurbish the home. The fact they hadn’t turned the Burrows into a sprawling mansion reassured Harry that at their hearts the Weasley family remained the same regardless of fortune and fate.  


  
Harry looked up to Severus, and then stretched out his hand to Rosalind. “Now remember Flower, you are a Potter.”  


  
“Which will mean you’ll probably run off, get into trouble and have to be rescued.” Severus commented drily.  


  
Harry laughed. “Don’t give her ideas.”  


  
Severus smirked, then the dim light was broken by a door opening spilling light into the field. “Harry, Severus, I’m so glad you came!” Molly called from the doorway.  


  
Molly ushered them inside. Instantly the noise hit Harry. After years of living on a Scottish Island with less than a hundred other residents he had become used to the quiet, and the Weasley home was anything but quiet. People seemed to fill every room, coming and going between them. Harry knew it was some sort of redhead optical illusion but it was off-putting.  


  
“Harry, my dear man.” Arthur Weasley was suddenly in front of him, enthusiastically shaking Harry’s hand. “Severus, and you, you must be Rosalind, come in, come in, make yourselves at home.”  


  
Harry couldn’t help the small smile that came from Arthur’s greeting. The Weasleys were always a little in awe of Harry, believing the hype around his role in the defeats of Voldemort, but the accompanying hero worship had always been lessened by a homely acceptance. It was a strange combination of Harry the poor orphan that needed a loving family, and Harry the chosen one who would one day save the world. For all of it, the good and the bad, he’d always be grateful for the love he received from this family.  


  
“I was quite surprised when Ron told us they ran into you at the train station Harry.” Arthur said as they all took seats in the sitting room. “There were so many reports that you died after that final battle, of course we didn’t believe that, but we were worried for you.”  


  
“Thank you Arthur, I didn’t want people to worry, but I just, I needed, time I suppose.”  


  
“It’s ok Harry, truly, I do understand.”  


  
Harry smiled stiffly. He appreciated the comment and knew it came from the best of intentions. But Harry also knew no one could truly understand the effect that final battle had on him. People had always wanted to know. What had happened in that clearing, how Harry had finally defeated Voldemort? They had in their minds how they expected Harry to feel about his success, how he should behave now Voldemort and his army of followers were defeated. But, always, in the end Harry disappointed people, failing to meet their expectations.  


  
“Harry, you made it. Hermione’s in the kitchen,” Ron grinning conspiratorially. “How about I should you Dad’s new telescope?”  


  
“Oh good idea Ron,” Arthur beamed. “I’ll keep Severus and this young lady company.”  


  
Harry felt rather than saw Severus’ glare as Ron lead him out of the room. He bit his lip to keep from laughing as he followed Ron through the maze of corridors until they reached a small study set up with the telescope.  


  
“Hermione was giving me the evil glare, so I thought I’d hide up here, and you looked like you needed a break from all the noise already.”  


  
Harry nodded, smiling a little. “Yeah, so not used to it. Hey, what have you done to annoy Hermione?”  


  
“Nothing, well, it’s Mum really. My mum is a little, well, old-fashioned, and part of that is, well again, an old-fashion view on families.”  


  
Harry nodded again, from what he knew of the Weasleys they had very strict roles of who should do what within the family. He remembered when Bill got engaged to Fleur, Mrs Weasleys main concern was Fleur did not look like the type to stay at home and raise a family.  


  
“So she expects Hermione to be the housewife so dragged her into the kitchen with the other Weasley woman. The thing is, in our family it doesn’t work that way. You know Hermione has the job as an Auror. Well I don’t work, haven’t for years. I stay home and raise the kids, run our home. Mum won’t believe this is the way of things for us, so she simply chooses to believe Hermione runs our home.” Ron laughs deeply. “And mate, Hermione can’t cook, it’s scary, somehow she can’t even toast bread, and she wouldn’t even know where to start with things like laundry.”  


  
“So she goes out and works, and you are at home doing all that?”  


  
“Yeah, but the thing is Harry, I love it. I love raising our kids, and cooking, hell I even love mending clothes and washing floors. It’s odd, especially after being told all my life that it was ‘women’s work’. And I’m sure if someone like Draco saw me I’d never hear the end of it. And of course Mum doesn’t even try to accept it, pretending things are the way she believes they should be, you know.”  


  
Harry nodded, reaching out to squeeze Ron’s arm in support. “Ron, do what makes you happy. It’s a cliché I know, but after everything we went through, I do think we all need to just be happy at last.”  


  
“Are you?” Ron looked questioningly.  


  
“I don’t know. I love my kids, god I couldn’t imagine my life without them, you know.” Ron smiled and nodded back, the same deep parental love reflected in his eyes. “This isn’t even close to any sort of life I imagined for myself. Hell Ron I live with Severus, but for all the options that are available to me, I think it’s the best one I could have.”  


  
“So I have to ask, you and Severus, are you like married now?”  


  
“He’s a slave Ron, he can’t get married.”  


  
“I know that,” Ron blushed softly. “I mean, ok Hermione said just because you, well own him, doesn’t mean you’d you know.”  


  
Harry contemplated discovering how much Ron would blush if he was forced to actually ask the question, but decided to take pity on his old friend. “Severus and I have a sexual relationship Ron, he serves as my companion in all aspects of my life.”  


  
Harry laughed good-naturally as Ron’s skin flushed again as he muttered. “Ok I’m never thinking of Severus having sex every again.”  


  
Awhile later Harry found himself wandering into the kitchen. He stood at the doorway, watching Hermione peeling apples with a knife. She looked so awkward, Harry was concerned she was about to lose a finger. Beside her, Harry watched, Molly beamed encouragingly, seemingly oblivious to Hermione’s lack of comfort.  


  
“Hermione,” Harry lightly called out, offering her a reprieve.  


  
Hermione looked over and smiled, pushing aside the knife and cut apples. She gave Harry a hug when she reached him. Harry had been prepared for a lot of physical contact from people but still he felt himself tense slightly. He was quick to offer a reassuring smile when she pulled back. Hermione introduced him around the room, most of the faces he didn’t recognise. Harry did notice Molly’s speculative look when Ginny smiled her hello.  


  
Harry smiled his thanks when Molly poured him a glass of juice. The fruit juice was freshly squeezed but it had obviously been sweetened. The taste made him smile, even though he wasn’t sure he liked it, but he knew all the Weasley boys had sweet tooths. He wondered how much it would annoy Molly if he talked to Hermione about her job as an Auror. He really didn’t want to make any one uncomfortable but he was unsure what else there was to discuss.  


  
“Papa?”  


  
Harry turned to see his daughter standing in the door. Her stance was wide and her arms crossed over her chest in her typical pose of irritated impatience. It was times like this Harry often felt sorry for anyone she’d end up dating. Even at 10 she had a strong sense of honour and appropriate behaviour, and god forbid anyone fails to measure up to it.  


  
“What is it Flower?”  


  
“Mr. Weasley gave Severus a bottle of beer 10 minutes ago.”  


  
“Ah ok, I’ll be right back Hermione.” Harry smiled at his friend and headed through back to the sitting room. Along with Rosalind’s sense of honour and appropriate behaviour, she was also strongly loyal. It may be totally acceptable for her to drive her brother crazy, to the point where at times he’d cry, anyone else even make him feel uncomfortable she’d be ready to make them eat worms. This also included Harry and Severus, who she was equally loyal to.  


  
Harry entered the sitting room to find Severus sitting across from Arthur and Percy. He was holding a bottle of beer, awkwardly moving it from hand to hand. The look on Severus’ face wasn’t exactly boredom and when Harry approached he discovered why. Percy was discussing visiting an archaeology site in Sweden, it was a site that Severus had been following in an academic journal he still had access to. But there was something off with Severus, a tension that he could read in the other man.   


  
“Severus, if the beer isn’t what you like I can get you something different.” Arthur offered with exaggerated slowness to his words.  


  
Harry quickly put the facts together; Severus’ tension, Arthur’s cautious tone, Rosalind’s annoyance. Arthur had probably offered a drink a number of times to Severus, and finally to stop it continuing he’d accepted. However, without Harry there to give permission, all Severus could do was hold the bottle in his hand, and eventually Arthur had noticed and was trying to be helpful, considerate, but all he achieved was to agitate himself and Severus in the process.  


  
He knew he could just quickly tell Severus to drink, but he hesitated. Severus never acted ashamed of being a slave, not in all the time they have lived within such a relationship. To be told to drink directly in front of everyone would not cause him embarrassment, but he was not so sure the same thing could be said about Arthur. Despite the growing belittling tone, Harry was sure that Arthur was just trying to be considerate of Severus, wanting him to feel comfortable in the Weasley home.  


  
Harry leaned on the back of the couch, smiling when Severus turned to look at him. “I’m in the kitchen, supervising the cooking if you need me for anything Severus, in the meantime enjoy your drink.”  


  
Severus nodded, bringing the bottle up towards his lips, then frowned looking at it before he could take a drink. Obviously Harry had been too vague for the spell and it was still wasn’t allowing Severus to drink.  


  
Harry laughed. “Drink your beer Severus.”  


  
“Yes Master,” Severus responded taking a long sip.   


  
Harry could feel Arthur and Percy’s eyes on him as he left the room. When he returned to the kitchen, there was another set of eyes boring into him. Molly looked at Harry with such disappointment. He now understood how Ron must feel failing to measure up to his mother’s definition of a man and husband. He glanced away only to have his sight fall on Hermione, she had the same look of disappointment, laced with righteous anger. It was the same look she used to get when she was campaigning to free all the house elves. Harry sighed, glancing around for his daughter. She wasn’t in the room, obviously having ratted him out before making her escape.  


  
“You don’t let Severus eat or drink by himself?” Hermione sounded horrified.   


  
Harry could sort of understand her reaction. If it was true, if he had made the choice to control Severus in such a way, he would accept their horror. But it was never his idea, the whole spell had never been his idea. He’d tried to make the most of the situation, working to give Severus enough choice over his own life as possible without inflicting the spell’s punishments on him, or leaving Severus feeling uncertain and adrift in the minefield the spell and the wizarding world’s reaction to him had created.   


  
“Look, the spell decided that Severus needs certain controls.” Harry could feel something inside him snap. He told himself time and again to be patient and understanding when people reacted to Severus’ slavery. He knew coming here tonight would bring difficult reactions, just as any time they ventured out amongst other wizards. But now he felt his patience get up and leave the room.  


  
“Severus is a slave. Severus chose to be a slave. Severus’ choice probably saved numerous lives. It is not some twisted awful punishment I or Albus Dumbledore gave him. Severus is a man I have come to respect and care for. He lives as my slave and I accept him as that. If you cannot do the same, cannot give us both the courtesy and respect due us, then just stand up and admit to that now so I can take my daughter and get the hell out of here.”  


  
“Harry,” Molly gasped, obviously hurt by his words.  


  
“No Mrs Weasley, I love you dearly, you have been more like a mother to me than anyone I’ve ever met. But I will say this clearly, I own Severus, your attempts to change that, to require me or him to act like he’s a free man will not be tolerated, you all need to understand that.”  


  
“Please stay for dinner.” Molly’s voice cracked a little under the emotion, but she bravely smiled at Harry.   


  
Harry hesitantly returned the smile, he could tell Molly try to act accepting to show Harry he was welcome in her home. One look at Hermione however, told him his old friend would not be so forthcoming. The anger from earlier had only seemed to consolidate, and there was now a grave look of determination. Hermione had never been one to back away from what she thought was a just cause, and it seemed she’d just be handed a new one.  



End file.
